


Dying Light

by Riain



Category: Respectfully CMC Dixon-Riain Wacx
Genre: F/M, Respectfully CMC Dixon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2655635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riain/pseuds/Riain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a bit of something I decided I would try and write for NANOWRIMO, and realized I wasn't going to make that deadline with all the research papers I am writing for these last few weeks of classes. So..with that said, you guys get to judge if I should continue or just scrap it. Basically took my main characters from RCMCD (not as their TWD alter ego's but what they are in my original world of CMC) and dropped them into the apocalypse. There will be zombies, and blood and gore, among other things you usually expect from me. This is your warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying Light

Ann started packing away the evening’s dinner, knowing Logan would not be home until the morning duty changeover. He was always hungry when he walked in the house after a duty day, Ann always made sure she made enough dinner for her and Paddy that there would be leftovers. That was part of her job, being Logan’s wife. Ever since moving to Colorado after graduating med school and their wedding, Ann had taken more and more interest in being a wife, enjoying the quiet of Colorado versus the noise of New York. Things were easier with her and Logan being in the same place, rather than miles and sometimes continents between them. She smiled to herself, knowing that Logan would scarf down the steak and potatoes she was packing away into the refrigerator soon after taking his shower when he came home.

Paddy shifted uncomfortably in the recliner, barely paying attention to the Broncos/Bears game on the TV. They were playing at Soldier Field in Chicago. He missed the Windy City sometimes, but coming to Colorado after the Iraq deployment was probably the best thing he could have done for himself. There was nothing left for him in Chicago, ghosts that haunted him nearly everywhere he went, memories he could not shake. Paddy enjoyed the clean air and nice folks he met in Colorado, living with Ann and Logan was easy. Ann had cooked dinner; he planned to get up after she finished putting the leftover away to wash dishes. That was how it worked, whomever didn’t cook was the one who did dishes, usually.  Paddy could hear Ann singing to herself, the song he knew well. It was Danny Boy, a well-known Irish ballad that just about anyone and everyone knew.

Paddy quietly hauled himself out of the recliner, slinking through the darkened dining room, crouching down behind the bar. He listened to Ann sing, timing her footsteps to when she was close to him and when she was across the spacious kitchen. Sometimes the playful side of him came to the surface, Paddy grinned to himself as he popped up from behind the counter.

Ann jumped at the sight of Paddy out of the corner of her eye, the cast iron skillet in her hand crashed onto the floor, narrowly missing from crushing her toes. Ann gasped, feeling bad about the pan cracking the slate tile of the kitchen floor.

“Paddy, you’re an asshole!” Ann admonished, seeing the Irishman grin mischievously. “You made me drop the skillet and now the floor is cracked! Logan’s gonna blow up over it!”

Paddy’s face fell, seeing the hurt in Ann’s eyes. He knew Logan would care less about replacing a kitchen tile, it would be more about the skillet near missing his wife’s toes than anything else.

“Aye, sorry love. I was just trying to have a bit of fun with ye. I know how ye get when Logan has duty. I’m a shite replacement for him I know. I’m sorry Ann, truly.” Paddy pulled the petite blonde-haired woman into his arms, Ann’s slender arms wrapping around her brother in law’s chest.

While they survived a deployment to Iraq, being separated by distance during the last year of Ann at med school, Ann found it hard being apart from Logan during the overnight duty days. She had gotten too used to his warm body next to her in bed at night, smelling the woody, yet mechanic smell that was Logan near her at home. Ann missed when Logan would sneak up behind her in the house, kiss her on the neck and proffer a flower of some kind out of thin air it seemed. Little things like that she missed when the Navy was his mistress. It was not every night of the week, but one night a week now that Logan was the lead Chief Construction Mechanic at Ft. Carson for the battalion. Ann had gotten comfortable, something her sister told her to never do in her relationship with Logan. Krista was convinced that Logan would be killed while deployed; just like their brother Sean had been with the Marines. Krista was just looking out for her little sister, not wanting to see Ann’s heart broken.

* * *

 

Ann slowly let go of Paddy, seeing something moving in the clearing outside the kitchen window. What it was wasn’t animal, it staggered on two legs upright, making Ann think it was someone drunk.

“Paddy, there’s someone outside in the clearing, I think someone’s drunk. We should go check it out.” Ann tried to hide the worry in her voice; it was dark out in the trees that secluded the cabin from civilization.

Paddy cocked an eyebrow at Ann, his curiosity peaking at the thought of her possibly seeing something out in the clearing behind the cabin. The nights that Logan had duty down on base, she was on full alert and jumpy. He chuckled inwardly to himself before turning towards his bedroom to get his sidearm.

Even after leaving the city, there were some habits that were hard to break. Keeping a gun in the house was one of Paddy's many quirks. He knew that Logan had a gun safe in his office, he even knew the combination to it, but Paddy still preferred to keep his own gun in his bedside table. Flicking on the bedroom light, Paddy sat down on the edge of the bed, lacing up his comfortable hunting boots. He reached into his bedside table, his hand hefting the weight of the well cared for 1911 that his brother Liam had gave Paddy the summer before he died. Paddy closed his eyes at the memory of the accident, swallowing down the thickness in his throat. It was a painful memory, the loss of his baby brother, but being around Logan helped to ease the hurt. Logan was almost a carbon copy of Liam, right down to his mannerisms. The only difference was the deep western drawl, instead of the soft Irish brogue Paddy knew so well.

“You ready?” Paddy startled at Ann’s wavering voice, glancing over to see her fidgeting with the 9mm on her hip. Logan had made sure after they had gotten married Ann was bought a gun and taught how to shoot. He didn’t like her not knowing how to protect herself, especially with he and Paddy sometimes being gone on the same duty section.

Paddy forced a smile, “Aye love, let’s go check out what ‘tis. Can’t be much. Maybe an elk or something.” It wasn’t that Paddy didn’t believe Ann that something was out there; it was the notion that it was a person. The closest neighbor was over two miles away on a ranch. He knew Ann wouldn’t be able to rest comfortably until they figured out what it was in the woods.

Hauling himself off the bed, Paddy wrapped an arm around Ann’s shoulders. He followed her through the house, grabbing two of the mini Surefire flashlights Logan kept in the mudroom by the back door.

* * *

 

Ann stepped out onto the back patio, her gun and flashlight scanning the yard between her and the woods. Ann let out the breath that she wasn’t aware she was holding, rounding the side of the corral, following a path out to the woods she knew by heart.

Paddy made a slow circle around the front of the house, checking his Jeep and Ann’s Explorer. Satisfied that both vehicles were secure, Paddy searched through the property, instinctively following Ann. His head snapped towards the distinctive pop pop of a 9mm round breaking the silence of the night, his body responded by slipping into combat mode. Paddy vaulted over the split rail fence, running full out towards the screams ringing in his ears.

There was a man on top of Ann, his sounds drowned out by Ann’s screaming. Paddy could see Ann struggling to get the assailant off her, but he outweighed her by a good 60 plus pounds. Paddy’s boot connected with the attacker’s ribs, the sickening crunch of ribs cracking made Ann wince. Ann scrambled on hands and knees away from the man, tears burning down her cheeks as she gulped crisp mountain air into her lungs.

Paddy was relentless, stalking through the brush, kicking the body that was scrabbling to gain purchase on the chilly ground. All Paddy could see was red, this asshole attacked his sister in law, trespassed on their land, and threatened Ann’s life.

“Who do ye tink ye fuckin’ are attackin’ me sister ye fuckin’ son of a bitch?” Paddy’s brogue was full on, his anger seething off his body in waves. “Ye gonna fuckin’ answer me, or am I gonna haveta beat it outta ye?”

It was in that moment that Paddy heard Ann calling his name, pleading with him to stop. Paddy’s body froze, seeing Ann crawling over to the man that wasn’t moving under his foot. He watched in horror as Ann rolled the man over, seeing his face a mass of torn, bloody skin, his eyes dull and lifeless.

Ann tore the man’s shirt open, it took everything in her not to turn her head and wretch. The light from Paddy’s flashlight made the gore visible, in all it’s screaming red gory glory. Intestines, stomach, liver were protruding out from paper-thin flesh, flesh that was rapidly decaying.

“What the fuck?” Bewilderment laced Paddy’s voice, he’d never seen anything like it before. He pulled his tee-shirt up over his nose, trying to keep the stench from reaching his sinuses any more. He breathed through his mouth, just like he had done during the excavation in Iraq when they had dredged a pond and found a mass grave.

“I don’t know.” Ann sniffled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie. “But whatever it is, it shouldn’t be alive with wounds like that. We need to call the law and have them come down and investigate. It smelled like death, and I swear it was trying to eat me Paddy.”

“Aye. Let’s get up to the house, get ye inside and the law called. I’ll call Logan at work. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Could’ve been one of those whack job survivalists finally lost their marbles lost in the woods.”

Halfway back to the house, Ann and Paddy’s attention turned to the road, hearing the unmistakable roar of a diesel engine pushing the envelope. Running through the pasture and barn lot, they saw the lights pull up outside the cabin, hearing the truck door slam.

* * *

 

Logan skidded into the driveway outside the house, leaving the truck running as he jumped out. Taking the stairs by twos, he flung the door of the cabin open, calling his wife’s name. His hand hovered over the pistol on his hip; his nerves were on edge after what he had dealt with on the base. Logan had made sure things were as secure as they could be before he headed for home. He had to be sure Ann was safe, had to be sure Paddy was alive.

It was then that Logan turned on his heel, heading for the front door. A small body hit him like a herd of horses, taking him to the hardwood floor.

Ann’s voice left her in a rush, telling Logan what happened as he pulled her tight to his chest. He could feel her heaving through the sobs, looking up to see his brother coming through the living room, jeans covered in dark blood.

“We need to hunker down. We’re at Delta, the base was just attacked, and what I saw I still can’t believe I saw. We’re under attack on our own soil by our own people, who are hell bent on eating us.” Logan heard his own voice tremble at the knowledge the horror found its way home. He had to protect his home and his family at any cost. He’d oathed that when he joined the Navy, “all threats foreign and domestic.”, he just never thought in a million years it would be like this.

 


End file.
